


Affinity

by NotSoHotsuin



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychological, Shinji in glasses and a PhD are u hot yet, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8481046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoHotsuin/pseuds/NotSoHotsuin
Summary: Shinji’s career as a neuroscientist has been at a stand-still ever since NERV collapsed and Project EVA was leaked to the public eye. After a horrible failed experiment involving his mother, he indulges in acts of escapism in hopes to forget about the past. A stranger turns into a friend, and a destructive pattern slowly starts to break as Shinji finds new ways to obtain the happiness he lost so long ago.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I usually don't write angst for this ship but when I do I make sure to wipe out everyone in my path. Including myself. Enjoy!

Images passed by in the form of flashes. It was as if someone was turning a light on and off at rapid speed in front of his very eyes. With the flickering came an overwhelming number of feelings; feelings that passed by too quickly to fully process. Emotions he could understand on a fundamental level had long lost their meaning, and any impact they could make on his mental state was gone with his sanity. A moderately decorated bedroom was enclosed in a mind-numbing silence. Through the eyes of the beholder, it looked nothing out of the ordinary. It was a regular room.

Silhouettes of shadows extended across a familiar ceiling; reaching for something- or perhaps someone. The colors of the walls were pale, and the ambiance that filled the room could only be described as dull. Constantly reliving nothing but painful memories in a cycle from days on end was how things turned out to be. Who was Shinji to argue with the results of fate?

_Fate._

That word would have once left a bitter taste in his mouth, but at this point he had come to adjust to things as they were. If one could not change their environment, they would simply have to adapt. It was the only way to keep living. How “adapting” turned him into a shell of his former self was still not clear. His change in character was not planned, and it was not expected either. As a scientist, it was easiest to assume that he had attempted to detach himself from all emotions in order not to feel pain. Was this a biased conclusion?   
  
_“I’m fine,”_ was a phrase Shinji found himself uttering a lot. Misato had been a close friend throughout most of his teen life, and they got along just fine up until June rolled around last year. He assumed she would stop intervening in his business after this point, but the woman proved quite persistent in her wishes. Granted, he did not have a problem with her when everything was running smoothly and NERV was making progress on their project, but those days were over. It was only now when his life was a mess that he found himself getting easily more irritated with her calls. They were harmless calls. Kind calls. Despite Misato having no blood relation to the Ikari family, Shinji admitted that she acted more as a relative than any of his other family members did. She also never once blamed him for what happened at NERV, unlike some people.

He lay there in bed, staring at the blindingly bright screen on his phone as it vibrated and a familiar tune bounced off the walls. There was anger in his mind, fear, denial, and an uncontrollable urge to throw the god-awful thing against the wall and return to the gnawing silence. The sound of classical music brought him a sense of calm nothing else ever could, but the ringtone had played on repeat so many times that it was starting to make him physically ill. It was not Misato’s fault. It was his. That was for the most part what he continued telling himself.

His mother had been the first to volunteer as a test subject for their secret experiment. Shinji was skeptical, but she seemed to really want to be a part of it. As a scientist, he wanted his mother to set an example for aspiring scientists, but as a family member he wanted nothing of the sort. His father was also not completely sold on the idea, but he allowed Yui to make the decision for herself. Their coworkers were split, but majority of them seemed to agree that there would be no harm in testing their theory. Shinji was the only person left who had to give his approval.   
  
You could have said no.  
  
You _should_ have said no.  
****  
It’s your fault.  
  
_“Be a good child. Do as you are told.”_ Words like those sounded far too familiar. Shinji had no problem with being told what to do or how to do it up to a certain point. The fact he became one of the youngest neuroscientists in Japan was all thanks to his mother and father’s influence. All the recognition he got at a young age never went to his head, but it was mostly because he never understood the degree of seriousness that revolved around the research they were conducting. He understood why they were doing it, how they were doing it, and why people were opposed to them, but not why he was special for understanding these things. Anyone who put any amount of effort into a field of study could come out knowing more than they did before going in. Collecting and memorizing knowledge was not something he found admirable.

Being able to fall out of line and think independently was a trait he found far more admirable. Thinking independently for oneself was a cognitive trait that could juggle important questions of morality and truth. He followed his parents into science because it was all he ever knew, and he never once took the time to think about if this was something he wanted to do out of his own accord. Of course, he had initially discovered a passion for neuroscience and found it to be stimulating, but the mere sight of a lab was enough to make him grow sick to his stomach nowadays. The stench of LCL, the buzzing of sirens and the panicked screams of his coworkers as their experiment went berserk were memories he wanted nothing to do with. How much longer were these images going to haunt him? How much longer did he have to suffer through the same trauma before his mind decided to give him a break?

The phone had turned silent over time. How many minutes had it been since the ringing ended? Five? Twenty? Eyes that focused on the phone with a serious expression slowly softened. He fixed his gaze at the sheets and pulled the many blankets over his relaxed form. Shinji did not feel cold or sleepy, but getting up required energy, and he had none to spare. Feelings of grief, guilt, and horror piled up in his head to the extent he felt nothing. It was amazing how so many feelings could somehow cancel each other out and leave him with nothing but a sense of emptiness.

He curled up, trying to ignore the hunger that was starting to make itself known. Eating had been enjoyable when he was visiting Misato, even if the cooking was sub-par. Now, it was just a means to stay alive. The thing he enjoyed the most about sharing an apartment with Misato was not actually the food, but the company. While Shinji was aware that he was not the best cook, he knew he could make a decent meal if he wanted to. That was where the problem lied. He did not want to eat, nor did he want to sleep. If there was a button to press that could fast-forward time, it was one he would use without hesitation.

Despite not having the energy, he had to force himself up in a sitting position- still clinging to his blankets. He mindlessly searched the bed for his glasses to put them on and move straight to the kitchen. Even with the first few steps out of his bed, he could feel the dizziness kick in, and the legs that were supposed to support his weight were just barely managing to keep him upright. The blankets he had covered himself with slowed him down a bit and dragged across the carpeted floor as he exited his room for the first time in 30 hours.  
  
The state of his home could probably put Misato’s apartment to shame. Shinji did not have many items in his house, so it did not look quite as messy by comparison, but there were other factors that made him prefer spending the night elsewhere. While Misato had beer cans lying around, Shinji had newspapers, documents, files, a bunch of dusty laptops that had not been turned on in months, and even more useless prints of their experimental Evangelion Prototype scattered over the floor. It was the home of three scientists that were slacking on cleaning for the most part. It looked this messy all the time, but someone had always claimed they would clean it up and organize everything. In the end, nobody ever did, and ever since Gendo moved and left Shinji alone in the apartment, it had stayed the same. Most of the items were left untouched even to this day.

The rustling of old newspapers below his feet was louder than usual, perhaps because there was no other sound in the background to tone it down. There were small doodles covering the entire fridge; simple, triangular designs for the chest plates of their first Evangelion unit. The writings were gibberish to Shinji, but he had kept them up because his father was the one who asked him to come up with a good color pattern for it. Shinji enjoyed recalling this memory. It was one of his more fond memories; memories of a time where their relationship was not damaged beyond all repair.

His fingers gently brushed over the drawing, lingering a little longer than necessary on the green and purple tints messily drawn over the concepts. It was as if he was trying to extract warmth from an inanimate object.

He remembered how he held onto four colors and allowed his mother to pick the last one. Shinji had picked purple, and she had picked green. His father had rolled his eyes at the horrible choice and tried to convince them to choose something more serious. This robot was going to look like a neon-colored sign thanks to the two of them, but they did not care. It was their creation, and they could do as they wished with its design as long as they built it together. How many times had he revisited this work as the days passed by? How many times had he recalled this exact same memory only to be left with a feeling of hollowness on the inside?

The apartment might have stayed the same in its appearance, and the drawings might have stayed the same in their design, but the atmosphere had changed drastically as time progressed. Why did it hurt to call this place _home_?   
  
After the unfortunate incident, Shinji never bothered to go back to work, and was soon fired for his negligence. His coworkers understood why he did not want to come back, but none of them bothered to call him to check if he was alright. Shinji did not consider himself to be likeable or desirable, so why would others care for his wellbeing? They were coworkers, not friends. They had no obligation to care. Their concerns would not have mattered in the end anyways, seeing as NERV was shut down only weeks after the incident was leaked to the public.   
  
While Shinji could never really resort to drinking, he had other methods of handling his crippling mental state. One of those temporary solutions of escapism was to sleep away all time. Sleep through the entire day, sleep even when he was fully rested; anything was fine other than confronting the problems that were piling up. They could be dealt with later, so what was the harm in postponing it? Shinji had studied psychology, so he knew exactly what he was doing and why it was a bad idea to keep engaging in this behavior. As a doctor, he knew he should not rely on his own weak and biased self-diagnosis of _“I’m fine”_ , but accepting the fact he needed help was not an idea he was willing to entertain. He did not want help. He wanted basic human warmth. The warmth he was robbed off a year ago.

There was no food in the fridge, no food he could eat at least. He stared at the open milk container, and the few plates of leftovers that had long gone bad and needed to be thrown out. For a moment, he considered food poisoning over having to make a new meal, but closed the fridge with a sigh. When he walked towards the freezer to see if there were any frozen goods he could thaw out and heat up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the kitchen mirror. Every time he gazed at his own reflection it seemed to look more pale, drained, and dead than the days before. He blinked lazily, and let the blankets covering his shoulders slump down to the floor as he walked over to get a better look. He squinted, displeased with what hiding in this apartment had done to his body. The curtains were draped over every window, preventing any light from coming inside. All the lights had been turned off to better provide him with high melatonin levels. An increase in melatonin meant an increase in drowsiness, which meant he could sleep more time away in hope of forgetting all the painful memories.

_“Healing takes time.”_ He hated that phrase. He wanted to be spared of the clichés; spared of the agony that followed with his self-hatred. How much more time could he waste? How much more could he rush the process? The concept of “rushing” something was a flawed way of thinking. Shinji knew this at heart, but even some of the most reasonable people could resort to wishful thinking if they were put under enough stress.

Despite forcing himself to sleep, he looked like a wreck. He may not have dark circles under his eyes, but his bangs had grown slightly longer and needed a trimming. His hair overall had developed into something more wild and messy. The sleek and neat look was one he preferred mostly because his bangs always tickled his forehead if he let them grow out to be too long. Then again, no one really looked at him or met up with him, so what was the point in trying to take care of a body no one would interact with?

Shinji thought his body-type had been relatively slim and normal for a person around their twenties, but after taking a closer look, it seemed his bones were sticking out a little more than before, especially around his neck and his wrists. He stood near the mirror for some time, trying to point out all the little differences that had accumulated and become more noticeable over a longer period of time. As a scientist, it was clear that his mental and physical state was deteriorating at a rapid speed. However, as a wreck, it was far too impossible to care for his wellbeing. One feeling dominated the other and dragged his reason through the mud. Logic and reason were good for nothing when applied to emotions. What good was logic when it was one of the things that made him lose his mother? What good was it to avoid reasoning from emotion when his emotions were the one thing that could have saved his mother in the first place?

Bored with his own reflection, he turned to check the bread bin for anything he could put into his system. After establishing that the bin was empty, he returned to the freezer and began digging through the frozen packages to find something of use. As usual- nothing of substance was left. There was some frozen bread in the freezer, but that would take all night to thaw.

“Nothing… That’s not surprising. What was I really expecting?” He placed his palms over his cheeks to rub the look of desperation off his face. It was easy to handle the headaches that came whenever it worst fit, but it was impossible to deal with the nausea that followed with hunger. Since there was nothing more to eat at home, that meant he had to go outside to buy new supplies. Money was not the issue; he had luckily enough been so consumed with his work that he rarely spent his earnings on anything. A few miniscule purchases here and there were nothing when there were three people working and bringing money into the household. It gave him a lot of free time to throw away. Now he was stuck deciding between socializing and starving for the remainder of the day.  

Perhaps it was the countless hours Shinji found himself waste while replaying an incident over and over again that made his otherwise intelligent mind act slower, but shopping was one awfully energy-draining activity. It did not exactly help that it was a necessity for him in order to keep on living.

The usual stores he bought groceries from closed at 9PM. At this time, it only left him with two choices. He could suck up his pride and go to Misato’s place to talk some things out and hopefully get some food, or he could go out to a restaurant nearby and try to interact with people. Staying home sulking was only good for a certain amount of time before he started to feel sick with himself.

Without argument, he decided to go out.

* * *

  


The restaurant close to Shinji’s apartment was usually never this full, but maybe it had something to do with it being a busy Friday night. By this time, the restaurant was probably filled with couples enjoying themselves after a hard day’s work. Shinji never gave it much thought, but the restaurant did give off a very inviting and loving vibe. It was close to the beach, and had a lovely red décor that calmed the mind. The sun was setting over the ocean around this hour, a view that was perfectly visible through the wide glass windows in the restaurant. He had come to this place mostly for the great food, but also for the romantic atmosphere.

Sitting around other people was more comforting than lying around alone in a bed that felt more like a prison than a place where he could get some rest. It was probably the first time he even bothered to pay attention to the little details of the restaurant since he was stuck waiting for a table to become available. Other people were patiently waiting for their turn as well in the lounge. Two were sitting next to Shinji, and others were standing around chatting with each other. A few fortunate souls were lucky enough to have reservations and could simply walk right past them all.

“They really should serve the people who are the hungriest rather than the ones who come first, don’t you think so too?” Shinji turned his head upwards to find a man with silver hair stand before him.  
“Ah, maybe,” It took him a moment to realize that this was supposed to be a joke. He felt as if he failed to communicate already despite not being the one to initiate contact.   
“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” Shinji moved over as much as he could not to bother the other person next to him, and allowed the polite stranger to sit down and rest his legs. It looked like they were going to be waiting here for a while, so they might as well be comfortable.

“Thank you. My name is Kaworu Nagisa by the way. What’s yours?” Shinji had hoped the conversation would have ended by now, but he had no problem chitchatting for a little bit to kill time.   
“I’m…” He paused for a moment, considering saying his full name. ”Shinji.”  
“Just Shinji?”  
“Yes.” For now, that would have to do.   
“Well, alright. Shinji-“ Kaworu leaned back with a sigh. “-Do you come to this restaurant often?”  
“Sort of.”  
“Sort of?”  
“Yes.” He knew how dumb this sounded, so he tried his best to make a little more effort not to let the conversation die out. “Sorry, I-… I don’t really have a good answer. I come here because it’s convenient.”  
“So you live close by?”  
“Yes.” Was that a good thing to admit to a complete stranger? Shinji felt as if he rarely made good first impressions on people, and tonight did not seem to be any different. However, telling Kaworu that he lived close by did not really make him worry for his own safety. It could be that Kaworu was simply a harmless person, which was probably the case, or it could also be that his apathy was preventing him from making a fair judgement. Spinning hypotheticals inside his head was only making Shinji more impatient with the slow service at the restaurant.

“It must be wonderful to live near the beach, especially around this time a year. I hear the water here has the ability to cleanse the mind and the soul from all its worries.” Shinji wanted to point out that this was just a marketing scheme to attract gullible tourists, but it felt insulting to say so out loud. The water was most likely polluted and only looked good when it was too dark to tell what was actually going on. Thinking like this was a little hypocritical since he had lived here most of his life and never actually walked down to the beach for a swim. He could not say for sure if the water did have those healing capabilities people spoke of, but realistically speaking it was probably just ordinary water.

The sound of his phone going off made him reach into his pocket to cancel the call automatically. It was Misato again. If he did not reply for a week, she would grow worried beyond all belief. A part of Shinji was grateful that Misato cared so much about him, but another wanted her to stop treating him like a child, even if he did act like one at times. He knew that he was old enough to run his own life, but his mentality did not exactly make it easy for him to run it smoothly. Misato was trying her best to help- Shinji was just not letting her in. What good would it do if he allowed her to help and he only failed her? He could not stand to face that disappointment in her eyes.    
  
“I see you’re a fan of Strauss.”  
“Huh?” Shinji had spaced out and allowed his own thoughts to take over for a moment. Kaworu seemed a little lost by the reply.   
“Oh? Was I wrong?”  
“N-no, that’s right. I just… how did you…” Shinji looked at his phone, and then up at Kaworu. “How did you notice it was Strauss? The ringtone played for only a few seconds.”  
“It was a lucky guess. My second guess was going to be Bach. They’re both pretty well known.” Shinji did enjoy Bach’s compositions but the music Strauss made always hit a little closer to home, which was why he had picked it as his ringtone.   
“So you’re a fan of classical music, Shinji? That trait is hard to find these days.”  
“Really? Why do you think that?”   
“I don’t usually see people with ringtones of classical music. Do you?” Shinji wanted to point out that he never saw people at all and much less knew what kind of music they listened to, but refrained from making a comment.

“I have to ask though. Why Strauss?” Why was Kaworu so curious about his taste in music? The answer came quickly when Shinji gave the idea some thought. _Let’s see...I’m not exactly putting up much of a conversation here. I guess he’s doing this to pass time._ This was a realistic take on the situation, but his paranoia managed to put a more cynical spin on it. However, when Kaworu had asked him why he had Strauss as a ringtone, a reply formed all too naturally by his lips; A reply that he actually would have preferred stay a thought in his head.    
  
“My mother used to let Strauss’s compositions play in the background while we were doing work together. So, I-“ He stopped himself when he realized he was going off on a tangent, and tried to take back every word he had uttered. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t care.”  
“Your mother sounds like she had good taste in music.” If his body allowed him to feel anything, he was sure it was going to make him feel discomfort and disgust at the memories that were slowly starting to take shape again. _Not now. I’ve had enough for today._  
“So, who is your favorite composer?” It was with ease that Shinji could say he applauded Kaworu’s ability to keep the conversation going before things got too awkward. They never lingered on a subject for too long, and the question had actually managed to take his mind off the past.   
  
“Tchaikovsky.”  
“Ah, the man that composed The Nutcracker and Swan Lake? Howcome?” No one ever asked him questions like these before. It felt like a new experience altogether, despite being something so basic and fundamental to his personality. The feeling he recalled when he spoke about music almost felt nostalgic.    
  
“I’m not sure… I guess he has a lot of variation in his style of composing that I don’t understand all that well. I like looking at different note sheets to try and figure out just why it works as well as it does.”  
“Hmm, judging by your answer, I guess you play an instrument?”   
“I know how to play the cello, but I’m not very good at it. I know the basics of playing piano, but again, I’m not very good at that either.” Shinji’s paranoia spiked when he heard Kaworu chuckle. Was the thought of him being bad at creating music funny in some way? No, that would be ridiculous.   
“We make half a string quartet.”   
“What?” His paranoia was often unwarranted and absurd. Why these thoughts of self-loathing took residence in his mind was a mystery Shinji was never going to solve on his own. Psychology was easy to understand, but it was much harder to put into practice because it often relied on changing behavior patterns through repetition. It was hard to describe his problem to a person like Misato. The woman often unintentionally drew a line from Shinji’s apathy to simple laziness. While this was an easy mistake to make, it was not one Shinji liked to have pointed out to him, especially not since the answer reeked of projection.   
  
“I can play the violin as well as the piano,” Allowing his thoughts to carry him back to painful memories seemed to be a running theme. He tried his best to focus his attention back to Kaworu. “-All we need to do is find our second violinist and violist and we’ll be set for a concert.”  
“Or we could be a string duet,” The phrase had been uttered as a joke to lighten the mood, but Kaworu seemed to smile a little too brightly at the idea of a string duet.    
  
“Is that a promise?” Kaworu’s words had left him in a daze. Shinji knew he had forgotten just how to keep up conversation with most people, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Kaworu was not exactly like _most people_.   
“Um…” The host had called out a name that Shinji unfortunately could not hear through his own thoughts, but when Kaworu stood upright he imagined it was his table that was ready. Kaworu replied to the host, and informed him he was ready to be guided to his table in just a moment. Shinji was prepared to say his goodbyes, but was surprised to find a slender hand reach out to him.   
“Would you care to join me?” _What?_

“But-“ There was a time where he could understand others and show emotion much easier, but being locked up in his apartment with little to no interaction was starting to show its signs. What did a person feel in a time like this? What was he _supposed_ to feel? It was best to say something before the entire situation grew even more embarrassing. “Your reservation is for one, isn’t it?” It was only logical, since Kaworu was here alone.

When Shinji asked if he had a table for one, Kaworu’s smile gradually vanished. It was hard to distinguish just what type of feeling the other man was experiencing. Longing? Despondence? He seemed to have gotten discouraged, and retracted his hand hesitantly.   
“No. I did have a reservation for two.” The look on Kaworu’s face was luckily soon replaced with a small smile.   
“I wouldn’t mind sharing a table with you though. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.” Shinji could tell by the tone of Kaworu’s voice that there was no ill intention behind his words, and they were meant to be posed as a generic joke- but the sentence was far too painfully accurate to make him smile. He had actually not eaten properly for days. Remembering this was only making him more worried over how he looked. “Unless you already have a reservation, you’re welcome to join me.” _Why are you asking me this? Do I look like a person that can hold a steady conversation without boring you to tears?_

His hair was still messy and his posture was weak, but aside from that he thought he masked his body pretty well underneath a ton of clothing. He had on a shirt with long sleeves and a scarf to cover up his collarbones, which all looked ridiculous considering it was the middle of summer. It was lucky that shame was another feeling that completely escaped him. Shame did not matter. What mattered was hiding the evidence of his neglect- the evidence that pointed towards how shattered he was emotionally and physically. All the starving had actually made him look more frail than usual. It pained him to admit that his body really only was a few steps away from completely collapsing.  

Kaworu was waiting for a reply, but Shinji was still trying to figure out just how to express himself. _“I’d love to join you,”_ That came off as too eager and desperate. _“I’d like to join you,”_ Why did that still sound too eager? _“Let’s go,”_ No, that somehow managed to sound rude.

“If it’s okay with you?” That sounded more close to home.   
“Of course.” Kaworu was about to reach out and help Shinji up but Shinji had dismissed his gesture and raised his hand in a manner as if to say he could manage on his own. The smile on Kaworu’s face was soon replaced with a curious gaze that focused on Shinji’s hands. The look was one Shinji did not exactly like.   
“Gloves?” The fabric was a dull shade of gray that clung tightly to his skin, and it was made out of a material similar to leather. This was a minor detail that could have easily gone by unnoticed.   
“Do you get cold easily?” Shinji fixed his gaze on the floor and put his hands in his pockets.   
“We probably shouldn’t keep the host waiting anymore…” Their conversation had not lasted as long as Shinji believed it had. A lot of his conflicts were internal, and those took place in the form of nanoseconds.   
“Right, let’s have fun tonight.” Shinji truly wished he could smile. Kaworu was a person that deserved kindness equal to the one he was giving out so freely. He knew before going in that he had to pay the man back somehow.

* * *

  
  
Shinji was a regular customer during the time he worked at NERV. Nowadays, he only came in occasionally, but seeing the lovely beachside view made him wish he visited more often. It occurred to him that this was the first time he actually ate together with another person in this restaurant. Taking a notice to the romantic atmosphere seemed to have backfired a little since he was now sharing a meal with a stranger. This would have felt unsettling had he not been too hungry to care about it.

“So your order is our halibut special for the night?”  
“Ah, yes, thank you,” Shinji offered the waiter a rehearsed smile to be courteous and rested his hands on his thighs. He was well aware that his posture was making him appear more like a child, but it was the way he had always acted. Some relatives had pointed out that it was rude to keep ones hands on the table or slouch during dinner, and when his mind conveniently dug up those memories- he altered his posture and intertwined his fingers while straightening his back. The inconvenient shift made his eyebrow twitch with annoyance. This was painful. Trying to keep up appearances was exhausting. Feeling bad for not showcasing himself as the proper and disciplined boy he was expected to be was something he had tried to abandon long ago. Who knew that guilt was not an easy feeling to get rid of on the fly if it was burned into ones memory? Old habits really do die hard.   
  
“I’ll order the salmon. Do you have any wines?”  
“Sauvignon Blanc and Merlot are my recommendations,” the waiter replied.   
“Do you have any preference, Shinji?”   
“I don’t drink, sorry.”   
“Not even wine?”  
“No. Wine makes me dizzy.” _I don’t like the feeling. It just makes everything else in my head spin._  
“In that case, I’ll settle for water as well.”

* * *

 

They conversed briefly before their dishes arrived, mostly idle chitchat with no real meaning or purpose. Shinji took notice to the way others acted in the restaurant, and observed the people walking by. While Shinji did not exactly care about what others did, it was interesting to see other people live their lives completely separate from his own. Everyone had their own story to tell. What was Kaworu’s story? His eyes shifted to gaze at the man across from him who was staring out through the window and taking in the view of a vibrant crimson-colored sky.  

“The ocean really is beautiful from here.” Shinji agreed in silence. This restaurant was never noisy, and it always gave off a very sophisticated vibe. Coming here and enjoying the background noise was enough to help him calm down. The breathtaking view was a nice bonus. Having Kaworu next to him was also a nice bonus. That was also the confusing part. Why was he here with _Shinji_?   
  
“Kaworu,” He had to ask. “Why are you alone? Didn’t you say you had a reservation for two?” The smile on the other man’s face faded again. Shinji almost wished he had not asked. Why did it feel as if punching Kaworu would have made less of an impact than asking that question? A look like the one Kaworu was wearing now showed that there was something more below the surface, something he was not comfortable sharing with a stranger. It would not be strange if Kaworu did not want to deliver an answer. To Shinji’s surprise, the calmness that surrounded them had not been lifted by one single change in topic or expression.   
  
“I was supposed to meet my date here,” He paused momentarily, contemplating if he should continue the story.   
“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to, I understand. We don’t know each other.” Shinji never usually interrupted others, but he knew he was not close enough to Kaworu to get any special insight into his mind. All he wanted to do was to make this clear so it did not seem as if he was forcing an answer out of him. A small chuckle escaped Kaworu’s lips, and that familiar smile returned. Seeing this eased Shinji’s anxiety about the subject.   
“They texted an hour beforehand and canceled, saying they did not want to see me anymore.” He was starting to regret acting upon his curiosity.    
“…I’m sorry to hear that.” What he actually wanted to say was “ _I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked_.”  
  
“It’s alright. I believe everything happens for a reason.” Shinji disagreed with this popular phrase strongly, but he did not have the heart to voice this opinion out loud. This did not exactly seem like the right time to start a debate. Kaworu was still smiling, but the expression seemed a tad forced.   
  
“-Still, I feel a little embarrassed. I came here hoping to propose and they shot me down.” It was official; this man was going to kill him with his compassionate demeanor. An action like this would leave most people in shock. Shinji had been abandoned as well, so he could empathize. Even if it was not done in the same way, it was astonishing to see Kaworu keep himself so composed despite only hearing about it an hour ago.   
“Aren’t you upset?” He did not look that troubled by it. From what Shinji was aware of, break-ups were usually horribly dramatic, frantic, and sometimes led to abusive conclusions. That might be because all the break-ups he actually heard of were taken straight from movies and novels. It was probably not a good source to rely on for accuracy, but it was the only observations he could count as experience since he had never been in a relationship.   
  
“I don’t see why I should be upset. If their life is more meaningful without me beside them, then there is nothing I can do to change their mind.” There was a strange feeling forming in Shinji’s chest. It was very faint, but he was sure it was there. A part of Shinji wanted to reach out and give Kaworu a hug, but the action would most likely come off as very creepy from a complete stranger. The idea of accepting a life without the person you love- how was Kaworu able to entertain the idea so lightly? Shinji tried to analyze the other man’s expression a little closer. Maybe he was hurting, but he felt uncomfortable showing it.   
  
“I apologize, I did not mean to make you sad,” Kaworu said, hoping to ease Shinji’s worries.  However, Shinji was lost in thought, trying to find a way to understand this individual on some basic level. What made him have this approach in life? What made him appear so calm through situations like these? He knew he should not press the issue any further, but he was curious. Kaworu’s reaction to loss felt very alien.   
“How can you let go of someone you were just going to propose to?”  
“Hmmm… It was never my choice to let go. They explained it very vividly. I guess I got a little too preachy.”  
“Preachy?”   
“I teach religion and philosophy at a university nearby. Some of my beliefs seem to have been… unorthodox. At least, that was one of the reasons they gave me before saying they’d rather not see me again.” Kaworu pulled out his phone and pressed a few buttons. “I should delete the messages before I forget.” Shinji did not want to keep this conversation going anymore. He should never have asked something this personal in the first place. It was not something he felt like he had a right to know this early on. What could he say besides “sorry” and “I hope it gets better”? Those were words very few actually found comforting because of how overused they were. _What now?_ Kaworu did seem as if he caught on to how grim the conversation had become, and changed the subject when he put his phone down.

“So, what brings you here on this eventful night?”  
“Compared to you, I have no reason for being here other than… I’m really hungry.” Kaworu’s smiles really were infectious.   
“I’m glad I decided to keep the reservation. I had originally planned to cancel or give the reservation away, but I like how this turned out.”   
“You’re very optimistic despite all of this,” Shinji smiled weakly. He could see that Kaworu was sincere. While he had very little energy to keep up with his optimism, it was a nice change of pace from being scolded for not answering the phone or taking a hold of the problems that were piling up in his mind. He really did have to call Misato back at some point though.   
“Things are not always as hopeless as they seem. I think we have the potential to move forward.” Shinji had opened his mouth to reply in agreement, but froze when he heard the last few words of Kaworu’s statement.

“We?”  
“You’ve changed a lot. I wasn’t sure it was you at first, but I think I’m certain now.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“Isn’t your full name Shinji Ikari?” A chill ran down his spine.   
“-I recognize you by those glasses you’re wearing. My mother used to have a similar frame for hers.” Shinji had momentarily forgotten that the frames he was actually wearing were for women, and not designed to fit the facial features of a man. It made him a little self-conscious about how he was perceived by others, but the glasses had a deeper meaning to him than simple aesthetics.

“Well, your voice was what really made me remember you.”    
“My…voice?”  
“I may be a religion teacher, but I love watching scientists debate and often read and follow many of them for this reason. You caught my interest back when I was 17 years old. You were probably only a year or so younger than me, and you were already making new discoveries within your field of study.”   
  
_Oh no. Not this. Please not this._ Shinji already feared the direction in which this conversation was heading, but he could not do anything to stop it. “-I think that’s an impressive accomplishment. You’ve done more with your life than most people of your age.” _It’s not an accomplishment. Having a good memory is not an accomplishment. Memorizing texts is not an accomplishment. I’m nothing special._

“You were quite popular and praised by the scientific community. Your family contributed a lot to the field of hmm… neuroscience, was it?“  Shinji nodded, but tried to keep talking to a minimum. He knew his voice was going to sound unsteady if he spoke out loud. _Let’s talk about you instead. I want to know more about you. Leave my past out of this conversation._

“I got a little worried when I heard you quit, but I understand your reasoning behind it.” _No. We are not going down this road. Sorry. You’re a nice person, but I can’t do this with you._  
“If you don’t mind, Kaworu… “ His voice felt uncertain- too shy to beg him to change the topic. This was not supposed to turn into a pity-party. The feelings he had harbored a moment ago were slowly starting to dissipate into a more negative void. _I don’t want to feel hurt. I don’t want to cry. It was so long ago. Please forget it and move on._ Yet, at the same time, he wanted to show emotion, and he wanted to be able to vent. Perhaps this was just not the time and the place. His body was telling him one thing, and his mind was instructing him to do another. Why did the cognitive have to be such a contradictory mess?  
  
“Sorry, I imagine you get this a lot. It’s not easy to bounce back when a person’s most delicate thoughts and insecurities are made bare for the entire world to see and criticize.” The way Kaworu had phrased that sentence sounded too familiar. It felt as if it was a paragraph taken straight from a news bulletin. Was this paranoia too or was he actually right? The visuals, the sound, and even the scent from the events in their lab had started to slowly pile up in his mind again. If they did not change the topic, he feared he might have to flee the scene.

“Could we… stop talking about this? Please?” A horrible and inhuman experiment gone wrong; what was there not to talk about? People often discussed whether it was moral or not to conduct experiments on human beings. Somehow, testing toxic pharmaceuticals on humans was completely fine, but trying to synch them up with a giant robot was not. Shinji knew how ridiculous the idea sounded to everyone else, but he could make sense of the situation. Yes, there was apparently a sensible explanation to why they were commanding people to get inside giant robots. _The EVA was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to help us_.   
“I just find you to be a very interesting person. That’s all I wanted to say.” _Focus._  
“Thank… you? You don’t know me though.”   
“Do you want me to know you?” That was a bizarre way to twist his sentence. Shinji backtracked and tried to recall some of the things he had said during their conversation. It did feel as if he might have given off the impression they should only stay strangers. After all, Kaworu had opened up and Shinji was insisting on changing the topic to something else. However, the question Kaworu had posed was not exactly a question he wanted to answer.  
  
“Do you… always spin other people’s answers into a question?”  
“Are you running a psychological analysis on the way I form my sentences?” That was not what a psychological analysis was, but Shinji understood what he meant.   
“I don’t have to.” He looked away. “It’s obvious.”  
“Does it bother you? I usually have to ask my students to formulate their opinions and interpretations clearly, so I find myself asking more questions than I should.” That explanation actually made sense. It did seem to be a good trait to have as a teacher to always challenge students to explain how they reached their answers.   
“No, it’s fine. I just don’t talk much, so I don’t know what to say.”   
“We can sit here in silence too. I find your company to be very stimulating.” A faint shade of pink spread across Shinji’s cheeks. The compliments he usually got were directed at his accomplishment within science and NERV, and never really addressed him as a person. Hearing this had him at a loss for words, but as Kaworu had so elegantly pointed out- they could sit here in silence too and still enjoy each other’s company.

* * *

 

They ended up spending more time together than initially planned. Once the tension in the air settled, they spoke more about what they enjoyed doing beyond their professions. The conversation of music and art dominated most of the evening. Kaworu had talked about Turner and Rembrandt and the history behind their artistic talent. Shinji had little knowledge in the field of art, but this was a big reason to why it was so interesting to sit back and listen. Whenever the conversation swayed back to science, Shinji awkwardly tried to ask a question about the artists Kaworu had talked about. He hoped this obvious method to derail the topic did not make him come off as stand-offish. They decided to split the bill- a decision that was not as easy to make as it had first seemed. Kaworu insisted on paying for the both of them since it was his reservation, but Shinji was not going to let that excuse fly. Their pleasant night had eventually to come to an end, and they quickly found themselves making more small talk outside the restaurant.

“It was nice meeting you, Doctor Ikari.” It sounded weird to be called by that title again.   
“You can call me Shinji. I don’t really see myself as a doctor anymore…”  
“If that’s what you prefer, then I’ll call you Shinji.” _It’s not like it matters much. We’re not going to see each other again either way._

“I’d hate to keep you here any longer than you need to be, but do you happen to be a fan of theatre?” _Keep me here as long as you want. I’d rather keep talking than go back home._  
“I know of a few plays, but I have never been to one. Why?”   
“I was going to surprise my date with tickets to this musical but-“ He pulled out two tickets from his pants pocket. “Maybe you can put them to better use. Take someone with you and enjoy yourselves.” _Who though?_ Shinji had planned to turn the offer down, but that was before he read the title on the tickets.

“Rebirth?” He had recognized the name because it was based on a short novel his mother had read to him at a young age. There were rumors that it was going to be turned into a game, but somehow it ended up going in the opposite direction. Broadway producers began arguing about who got the chance to make an adaptation, and the result actually looked rather interesting. Regardless, it felt wrong to accept the offer. “I mean- it wouldn’t be right. From what I know theatre tickets are very expensive.”   
  
“I insist. I kind of want you to have them. Consider it an apology for making you uncomfortable during dinner.” So his discomfort did come across clearly. It saddened him a little, but there was not really a lot Shinji could do to mask his expressions. While he had a hard time understanding his emotions, he could not control the biology that was hardwired into him; the part that smiled, laughed, and showed expression naturally.   
“Those tickets would be wasted on me. I have no one to invite.”  
“Really?” Shinji listened closely to the pitch of Kaworu’s voice. It was weird to hear that Kaworu genuinely sounded surprised.   
  
“Hmm, alright,” He held out a single ticket for Shinji. “I could try to sell the other, but I still want you to have one.” Shinji hesitated, but his unease settled when Kaworu gave him a gentle smile. He reached out and took a hold of the ticket, examining it a little closer.   
“Thank you.” There was still something Shinji had to ask; something that had bothered him ever since they started talking. “Why are you being so nice to me?”  
“No reason. If I can create fortune from misfortune then maybe I’ve done something worthwhile today.” The saddened look on Shinji’s face made Kaworu chuckle slightly. Although Shinji did not know Kaworu personally, it felt as if he was hiding behind a mask not to let his true feelings show. Shinji could not blame him. Shinji was still just some random guy in his eyes, and he had given Kaworu no real reason to trust him.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” He was not fine. It was easy to tell, but to point it out would only make the situation uncomfortable. “-It was going to end up this way anyways. The least I can do is make someone smile.” Kaworu had an aura that seemed so inviting and soothing. Verbal conversation often sucked Shinji’s energy out and left him feeling tired, but this meeting had actually managed to make him feel a little more energized. It was too straight-forward of Shinji to open up and tell Kaworu that it was alright to admit to feeling hurt, so he abandoned that idea rather quickly. They were just strangers whose paths happened to cross by chance. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Shinji smiled, hoping to convey the feeling of gratitude and respect he felt for Kaworu. The man deserved a smile after what he had been through today.   
“Thank you for tonight. I’m glad I met you.”   
“Same here, Shinji.” Shinji was not aware of why, but he could tell Kaworu felt a little better now than he did when they first started talking.   
“Take care.” Shinji had wished to hold on to the conversation for just a second longer before the man walked past him and headed down the street. There was more he wanted to say. For once, Shinji had the opportunity to focus on someone else but himself, and he still managed to remain speechless during majority of the time. Perhaps this odd thing people called “fate” would come through for him one more time, and allow their paths to cross again.

It was only after Kaworu was gone that Shinji realized they did not say actually goodbye.


End file.
